Summer's Distant Heart (Seasons Book 3)

by Laura Landon

  “Because we cannot risk anyone knowing you are no longer the Earl of Atherton. A four-month-old babe can hardly object to you borrowing his title for a few years.”

  Hunter couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on his face.

  “She will go with you, you know.”

  “I would hope so, but I cannot be sure. She seems determined to send me on my way and try to handle this on her own.”

  “Janice would never put the babe in danger. If that means going with you, she’ll do it.”

  “Will you accompany us?”

  The dowager viscountess hesitated a few moments, then said, “If Janice wants me to, I will. It will be her decision.”

  “She mentioned something about asking one of her brothers to go with her.”

  “That would be Miles. He served in the war and has experience with weapons.”

  Hunter nodded. If his father sent men after them, Hunter would appreciate having someone at his side with military experience. He was surprised, though, at the dowager’s ease at mentioning the possible need for weapons.

  “How soon do you think she can be ready?” Hunter asked.

  “A week from today,” Lady Collinson answered. “That should give Miles enough time to get here.”

  “Very well. We’ll leave in a week. Would you speak to your niece for me? Have her write to her brother at once?”

  “Of course. Is there anything else?”

  “I know Lady Atherton might not feel that she can impose on you more than she already has, but I would ask that you seriously consider accompanying us. Your niece needs a sympathetic friend right now. She has just lost her husband, and from what my brother told me, he and your niece were quite in love.”

  “Yes, they were.”

  “I would also ask that you and your niece take only one maid each. The fewer people who know where we’re going, the safer we’ll be.”

  “You’re quite right. We should be content with my lady’s maid and the wet nurse, of course, and Janice’s maid.”

  Hunter nodded once, then watched Lady Collinson rise to walk to the house. She paused before she entered through the French doors.

  “Thank you, Lord Atherton. I am acquainted with your father only enough to know I must be wary of him. He has a cruel streak running through him. I’ve heard rumors of the little regard in which he holds you. Neither do I doubt that he would do anything in his power to rid the Trentridge line of an heir born to a commoner. Although, I wager that you are more aware than anyone of the anger that courses through him.”

  “Did you know my father before I was born?”

  “Yes, my lord. He was a different man in those days. But that man died with your mother.”

  Hunter watched Lady Collinson leave, then refilled his glass. This was the reason he could never love someone. If he ever fell in love it would be forever. It would be completely. And if he lost the woman he loved, what guarantee did he have that he wouldn’t turn into a man as bitter and demented as his father. Or treat the child who caused her death as cruelly.

  He wouldn’t want to wish such evil on any child.

  He had his nephew to think of now. He would focus his love and attention on him. And teach the child to take after his father instead of his grandfather.

  That would be his goal in life. He would not fail.

  . . . .

  Lia sat in the nursery while Marjorie Rodgers fed little Georgie. Lia couldn’t get over how he’d grown in the last month.

  “There’s a possibility that my aunt and I will be leaving within the week, Marjorie.”

  Marjorie Rodgers’ head shot up to look at her. “Will you be taking the lad with you?”

  “Yes,” Lia answered. “I could never leave him behind. Not for any reason. He’s mine and I intend to raise him.”

  “Does his lordship know you’re not the boy’s mother?”

  “No, Marjorie. And you must never tell him that I’m not.”

  “Of course, miss. You can trust me to never say a word. I know how important it is that his lordship never realize that you’re not the child’s mother. I fear he would think he has more right to the babe than you do and he would try to take little Georgie away from you.”

  “That’s exactly my fear. He can never know that I’m not George’s mother.” Lia worried her lower lip. “I know it’s quite impossible for you to come with us, Marjorie, but do you know of anyone who could? Someone who’s recently had a babe and would be willing and able to leave her home?”

  Marjorie thought for a moment, then focused her gaze on Lia. “There might be someone, miss. There’s a girl in Abbotslede who is rumored to have had a babe two weeks ago, but the baby died.”

  “Oh, how sad.”

  “Yes. But if her milk is still flowing, she might be able to help you. Would you like me to speak with her parents? I don’t know them well, but mayhap they’d be willing to let their daughter leave until rumors die down.”

  “How old is the girl?”

  “She’s coming up on sixteen.”

  “Oh. She’s so young.”

  “Yes. It will be good for her to have something else to do other than think on the babe she lost. I’ll speak to her and her parents tonight.”

  “Thank you,” Lia said as she walked to the nursery door. George had fallen asleep and was breathing slowly and deeply. Thankfully, he was unaware of the turmoil that threatened his young life. Hopefully, she would always be able to protect him.

  Lia went to her room and penned a letter to her brother. She was sure Miles would agree to go with them. He was a different man from the day he left for the war. It was as if he’d seen and done things that had made him age far past his five and twenty years. He no longer seemed to fit in with the young men his age.

  Lia had no doubt he’d be glad to escape the watchful, worrying gazes of their parents. It was only that they were concerned over their son and hoped that he would regain the cheerful optimism they’d known in him before he went to war. Now that she was in many ways a mother, she began to understand why they were on tenterhooks over her handsome brother.

  When Lia finished, she went down to give her letter to Hobson and asked that someone deliver the missive. She turned to go back up the stairs when a deep, commanding voice stopped her.

  “Do you have a moment, my lady?”

  Lia turned and found herself face to face with the man who unsettled her so. “Yes, my lord. Did you wish to speak with me?”

  “Yes. I have several matters to discuss with you. Would you join me in the library?”

  “Of course.” Lia walked past him and entered the library in front of him.

  She chose to sit in one of the two brightly woven brocade wing chairs that faced each other with a round tea table between them. It seemed the safest way to avoid contact with the man. She didn’t want to relive the reaction she’d experienced the last time they’d accidentally touched.

  “A fortifying drink, my lady?”

  “No, thank you. But please, help yourself.”

  He did. With the glass in his hand, he settled his tall frame into the chair opposite her.

  “What was it you wished to speak with me about?”

  “Our journey.” He shifted so he could face her directly. “We don’t have much time to prepare, as we shall need to leave within the week. Have you made all the necessary arrangements for the babe?”

  “I believe I have. I just posted a letter to my brother Miles. I doubt he’ll answer. Instead, I look for him to arrive ready to travel with us. If that is his choice, he should be here in three or four days.”

  “And Lady Collinson?”

  “Aunt Margaret has already instructed her maid to begin packing. There’s no doubt she will be ready well in time.”

  “And you?”

  “I shall be ready, as well.”

  “That only leaves young George.”

  “Marjorie can’t come with us, of course. She has a husband and family here that she can’t leav
e. But she suggested a young girl who recently lost her babe at birth. She will speak to her to see if she might agree to take the post as wet nurse for the babe.”

  “Very good.”

  Lia couldn’t help but study her sister’s brother-in-law. There was something very serious about him, as if his father’s hostility toward him had indelibly marked him.

  “Is your estate very far from here?” she asked when a long period of silence stretched between them.

  “Not far at all. Only a half day’s ride. Far enough that my father should not think of looking there, should he have reason to search for us. Yet close enough that if we leave in the morning, we can reach our destination well before tea.”

  “Do you fear your father that much?”

  He lowered his snifter and rested it on his knee. “Did you ever meet my father?”

  Lia had heard every horrid detail of Jannie’s few moments in the presence of the Marquess of Trentridge, but the very recollection of it stilled her tongue.

  “Surely Evan wouldn’t have introduced you to our father. He surely would have known that would be the worst of mistakes.”

  “Actually, we did meet briefly, and it went badly. Evan was mortified.”

  “No doubt. I’m actually appalled that Evan put you through that. Father would never accept his heir marrying beneath him. He would have objected to your lack of station and made no bones about it.”

  “He did rather colorfully express his objection to our association.”

  “I’m sure he did. He would have had a difficult time accepting that his heir wanted to marry the daughter of a mere professor. A common man can hardly compare to Society’s titled nobility, no matter how intelligent or knowledgeable he is.”

  Lia felt her temper rise as she searched for a touch of irony in his tone and heard little. “No. They hardly compare. Is that your impression, as well, my lord?”

  His expression turned dark. “Are you asking if I object to you marrying my brother as emphatically as my father did?”

  Lia knew it was important that she stand up to him now. If she didn’t, he would have the power to destroy her. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

  “I don’t see where my opinion matters one way or the other.”

  “I think it would matter a great deal to your brother. I believe he would want to know if you could come to terms with his choice of wife, or if you would always hold his wife in contempt, as does your father.”

  “Perhaps he would, but since he is no longer here to object, I don’t find it important.”

  “Lord help us!” She huffed as she rose angrily from her chair. “Are you always this obtuse? Perhaps you aren’t that different from your father.”

  “Enough!” His voice took on a harshness that he seemed to try hard to soften as he continued. “You know nothing of me or of my father. I would ask you not to assume that my father and I are alike in the least.”

  “I will speak because I am about to put my life and my…my son’s wellbeing in your hands.” Now it was she who felt the need to soften her tone.

  “Then perhaps we should make an effort to learn to tolerate one another. At least for the child’s sake. The last thing I want is to have to fight you and my father at the same time.”

  “Then I suggest we avoid each other as much as possible, my lord.”

  The man sitting next to her put a harsh expression on his face. “I agree wholeheartedly.”

  Hunter Montclaire rose to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady. Suffice it to say that I expect to be on the road one week from today. Until then I expect you to conduct yourself with the greatest of caution.”

  “But what if my brother isn’t here yet? Or a wet nurse hasn’t been secured? We would have to delay our departure.”

  “As to your brother, I’m afraid we’ll be forced to leave without him. As to the wet nurse, it should be no hardship to procure one when we reach our destination. I’m sure we can find one in the village or among my tenant families.”

  A wave of panic surged through her. If need be, she was sure a wet nurse could be found when they arrived at Lord Montclaire’s estate. But she didn’t want to leave without Miles. She needed him to protect her from the Marquess of Trentridge, should he find out about George’s existence.

  Even more importantly, she needed her brother to protect her against Lord Hunter Montclaire.

  Chapter 5

  Hunter sat in the library nursing a glass of brandy. His sister-in-law stood watching out the window that faced the drive. She was waiting for her brother. It had been one day shy of a week since she’d written him.

  Hunter was serious when he’d told her they would leave tomorrow morning. If her brother didn’t arrive yet today, they would leave without him.

  He heard a carriage pull up and saw her reaction.

  “Is he here?” Hunter asked.

  She shook her head. “It’s Mrs. Rodgers. She’s here with the girl to interview for the position of wet nurse for George.”

  “Did you want to meet with her in here?”

  “No. I’ll take her to the nursery. I want to see how she interacts with George.”

  Hunter watched her leave. Her shoulders looked as if they carried the weight of the world. He regretted the harsh words they’d shared earlier in the week, yet he had no choice but to hold her at arm’s length considering the way his body reacted to her.

  It was exasperating. He couldn’t contemplate anything coming of a friendship between them. He wouldn’t risk falling in love with the woman. Not after he’d seen the bitterness and hatred that ate away at his father after he lost the woman he loved.

  Even if he didn’t have that to look back upon, the woman standing at the window was the last person with whom he could entertain thoughts any deeper than friendship. England’s affinity laws forbade it. A man could never marry his brother’s widow.

  Well, he could, but anybody who objected could bring suit and void the marriage. He had no wish to enter into such a tenuous predicament.

  Hunter swiped his hand across his face. How the hell could his mind entertain such thoughts? Since he’d met Janice Montclaire his errant mind traveled to places where he didn’t wish it to go. Places that were totally foreign to him. If it hadn’t been for that heart-stopping reaction he’d had to her, he wouldn’t be giving her a second thought.

  In fact, she created a reaction that caused him to become even more hostile than he usually was. But to his surprise, where she should have cowered in his presence, she stood with complete ease. Even the men in his regiment hadn’t shown the courage she did when his temper showed itself.

  There was no denying that she was quite a remarkable woman. But, he couldn’t allow himself to be affected by her. Instead, he had to figure out what there was about Janice Montclaire that caused him to be drawn to her.

  Yet each time he thought he had hit on the answer, she changed. Like a chameleon, she could blend seamlessly into whatever new scenario presented itself. As if she kept herself one step ahead of him. Had planned her moves or her words in advance. As if she was hiding something, a secret that kept her at arm’s length from him.

  Yes, something was askew. Perhaps it resulted from having had to keep her marriage to Evan secret. But somehow, it seemed more than that. It was almost as if the lady had been lying to him. He’d swear that once or twice something she had said did not quite ring true.

  He tried to remember every word Evan had told him about his wife. He’d said how beautiful she was, and Lady Atherton was indeed beautiful. Then too, Evan had professed how fair and delicate she was.

  Hunter considered Lady Atherton’s regal bearing that he had so often admired. Little Georgie’s mother was anything but fair and delicate.

  Although she could be called delicate in the sense of feminine grace, she certainly was not fair. Her coloring was certainly closer to Hunter’s warm coffee undertones than Evan’s almost translucent fairness that Hunter had expected her to have. The
same fairness as the babe’s. But she looked nothing like what he expected.

  He would indeed watch her. What if his father had already discovered the babe and planted an imposter here to care for it?

  Hunter raked his fingers through his hair. No. That couldn’t be. She knew too much about Janice’s family to be an imposter. And the dowager viscountess was too comfortable around her.

  All he knew for sure was that he would have to be on his guard. If his suspicions proved false, all would be well. But if not, someone was sure to slip up.

  . . . .

  Lia greeted the young girl Mrs. Rodgers brought with her, then led the way to the nursery. When they reached the room, the girl went right to the cradle where little George was playing with his toes.

  “I’d like to introduce you to my son, George Hunter Montclaire. Look here, Georgie. This is Frannie McTavish. It’s possible she might be your new nurse.” Lia reached down to tickle the child. “If you don’t frighten her off,” she said with a smile.

  “Oh, he’d never frighten me off,” the young girl said, lifting George from his cradle and holding him in her arms. “He’s beautiful. A right nice gentleman, aren’t you, Lord George.”

  The young girl held George in her arms and played with him as if she’d held and cared for several babes all her short lifetime.

  “We are about to travel to a different estate, Miss McTavish. Do you have any concerns about moving away from your family?”

  “None whatsoever,” she answered. “And please, call me Frannie.”

  “Very well, Frannie. Could you be ready to leave by tomorrow morning?”

  “I can leave this very moment, my lady. When Mrs. Rodgers came to tell me about this position, I packed the few belongings I possess and brought them with me. I’ve already told my folks farewell, so there’s nothing for me to return for.”

  Lia studied the girl, impressed with her forthrightness. Her openness made Lia realize that the girl had a right to know what she was getting into. But did they dare reveal their fear for George’s safety?

  “Miss McTavish. Frannie. You should know that a certain…relative poses some concern for George’s safety.” She took a breath before continuing, but Frannie seemed to need no further explanation.